Claire Keane
hello vonnie
wallacepolsom
🪼
taylor price
Stranger Things
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Kaledo Art
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
AnasAbdin
dirt enthusiast
Monterey Bay Aquarium
#extradirty
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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
DEAR READER
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Mike Driver
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
ellievsbear
seen from United States
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seen from France
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@vrahful
An idyllic stream of cold mountain water, running out of a copse of trees that turns into a mysterious fog, decorated with blooming heather, and alive with dippers searching for their lunch. Being the only human here for all this was one of my favorite experiences out in nature in my life. Instantly memorable. Cascades, July 2020.
I reblogged this yesterday, but I want to reblog it again. Diabetic ketoacidosis turns your blood acidic and will essentially burn you from the inside out.
The stories you hear of people dying from rationing, this is what happens to their body.
Affordable insulin isn’t just a right, it’s a necessity.
No one should have to die like that when it’s preventable with access to proper medication.
"Affordable" should be the lowest fucking bar. Pharmaceutical companies should be tripping over themselves to offer insulin at "affordable". That shit deserves to be fucking free
I'm at a :.|:; for words.
PNW folks:
Point Defiance Zoo is doing a “Disability Adventure Day” next Saturday, the 25th, and I’m tempted to go and see what it’s like. I’m also, honestly, worried about if I’m the “right” type of disabled attendee given the event description or if I’m going to feel really out of place.
Any other disabled folks want to coordinate and go together? It’s 4:30-7:30 PM, pay what you can ($10 suggested, $2 minimum, one caregiver free per paid ticket).
Disability Adventure Day at Point Defiance Zoo & Aquarium: An inclusive event for individuals with disabilities and their families.
Hit me up if you’re interested.
Boosting!
For Azuron 🩵✨
the club moss I got for my terrarium is dying, despite being lovingly packed into organic soil with oven-fried leaf litter and bioactive springtails and isopods, and meanwhile in my fridge my fuck ass onions are sending out bright green shoots as happy as could be in their cold dark box of fucking nothing
I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU
As dandelions to sidewalks, so onions to refrigerators.
As dandelions
to sidewalks, so onions to
refrigerators.
Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.
the king has abruptly fired 60% of his wizard staff, so he’s about to be abruptly surprised at who floated 100% of his formerly floating sky castle
I heard they're planning to maintain their levitation rites with autonomous constructs from now on, saying wizards are going to be totally obsolete within the season... so, ah, I'd invest in falling island insurance.
Preserving not-prev-but-someone-elses funny tags in this chain as well because I love both these additions actually,
Humanity has finally reached the stars and found out why no one had contacted us. The universe is in a sad state. As such, Doctors without Borders, Red Cross, and many othe charities go intergalactic.
The thing the recruiters don’t tell you about space battles is that you die slowly.
Ships don’t blow up cleanly in flashes and sparks. Oh, if you’re in the engine room, you’ll probably die instantly, but away from that? In the computer core, or the communications hub? You just lose power. And have to sit, air going stale and room slowly cooling, while you wait to find out if the battle is won or lost.
If it’s lost, nobody comes for you.
It had been about half a day (that’s a Raithar day, probably a bit shorter than yours) and Kvala and I were pretty sure we had lost. Kvala was injured, Traav and I were dehydrated and exhausted, and Louv was dead, hit by shrapnel when the conduits blew.
Most fleets give you something, of course. For Raithari, it’s essence of windgrass. I looked at the vial.
“It’s too soon,” Traav said.
Kvala gestured negation, shakily. She had been burned when conduits blew, and her feathers were charred, and her leftmost eye was bubbly and blind now. Even if we were rescued, she probably wouldn’t survive. “You know we’re losing the war.”
They couldn’t deny that. “It doesn’t mean we lost the battle.”
“Doesn’t it? The Chreee have better technology. Better resources. And they have their warrior code. They don’t care if they die.”
“We can’t give up!” Traav protested. They were young, a young and reckless thar who had listened to a recruiting officer and still believed scraps of what they had been told. “Any heartbeat now—”
There was a clunk. Something had docked with our fragment of the ship.
“You see?!” Traav crowed triumphantly.
Kvala exchanged glances with me. The Chreee never bothered to hunt down survivors. What was the point, after all?
The Aushkune did.
There weren’t supposed to be Aushkune here. They were supposed to hide in nebulas.
But if there were—
If there were, we were too late. The windgrass couldn’t possibly destroy our nervous systems in time to stop the corpse-reviving implants, and once you were implanted, it was over—or it would never be over, depending on how you looked at it and whether Aushkune drones were aware of anything—
Footsteps.
Bipedal. The Aushkune were supposed to be bipedal.
And then the blast door opened, and a figure stood in it. My first thought was, robot? That’s almost worse than Aushkune . . . But no, it was a being in some sort of suit.
Who wore suits?
“Friendly contact,” the suit’s sound system blared, as the being moved over to Kvala. “Urgent treatment. Evacuation.”
“Who are you?” Kvala struggled upright.
Despite the primitive suit, the blocky being was using up-to-date medical scanners. “Low frequency right angle shape,” it explained—or maybe didn’t explain. Two more figures came into the room and put Kvala firmly onto a stretcher.
“You’re with the Chreee, aren’t you?” Kvala was not at all happy to be on a stretcher.
“Not Chreee,” the sound system said. “You Man. Soil Starship Nichols.” The being hesitated. “Rescue Chreee as well. On ship. Will separate.”
“You what?” I said faintly. Who would do that?
“Oath,” the being explained.
“What kind of oath? To what deity?”
The shoulders of the being moved up and down. “Several different. Also none. For me, none. Just—oath.”
I exchanged glances with Traav, who looked as unsettled as I was. I had never, ever heard of groups cooperating when they couldn’t even swear to or by the same power.
The being scanned me. “Have water,” it said. “Recommend.”
Raithari have fast metabolisms. I could—would—die of thirst quickly, and painfully.
“Where will you take us,” Traav asked, “after you give us water?”
“Raithari to Raithar. Chreee to Chreeeholm.”
“Chreeeholm would kill them for failing,” Traav remarked.
The being hesitated, and then said, “War news sometimes bad. Sometimes lie.”
We had learned long ago not to believe the recruiting officers, but what did that have to do with anything?
“And you—what?” I asked. “Just fly around looking for battles and rescuing victims?”
The being seemed to consider this. “Best invention of soil,” it said finally.
Most of what it was saying didn’t make any sense. Did it worship soil? But it had said that it had sworn to no deity . . .
Madness.
On the other hand—war was a deliberate, rational act by deliberate, rational people, and I wanted no more of it. So why not embrace madness and see what happened?
“Soil Starship—Rrikkol?” I asked, stumbling over the word.
“Yes. Soil Starship Nichols.”
I followed the being in the suit.
Took me well over a minute to realize "low frequency right angle shape" was Red Cross.
This whole thing is brilliant with translation stuff.
Rabbit in the Hole - Submitted by lembellique
#AEB0D2 #9495C2 #55669E #505895 #27395E #262F4D #141B33
i need feminism because when jesus does a magic trick it’s a goddamn miracle but when a woman does a magic trick she gets burned at the stake
fabulous
i mean they did also kill jesus. that was a pretty significant thing that happened. like i understand where you’re coming from here but they very much did kill jesus.
#HAPPY GOOD FRIDAY
In fifth grade a boy tried to impress me by swallowing a whole tadpole live and I punched him so hard that he puked and the tadpole was fine.
I kept it in a terrarium and it became a normal 🐸 despite everything. About a year afterward (I thought) it died, so I sadly put it in a shoebox in the shed until the ground thawed enough for a proper funeral but when that day came I opened the box and the frog was fine.
This is funnier than anything I have ever said.
This post is to Easter what a Geiger counter is to radiation.
I see it’s *looks at smudged writing on hand* Lent again.
hope is a skill
hope is a weapon you are trained to wield
favourite additions
You cannot hide this in the tags, bestie. This is too lovely to keep a secret.
Hey. Heyhey. Do me a favor real quick.
If you don't already know you have issues doing so, squat down real quick. Bend your knees all the way and touch the floor. Just make sure you can do it. Okay? For me? And then stand up all the way and make sure you can balance on one foot.
Like. You don't need to blow it into some huge thing. Just. Make sure all your bits and peices still work the way you think they do.
Can you turn your head to look behind you without twisting your shoulders? What about standing on your toes? If you sit down on the floor can you get back up without using your hands?
If there was ever a tumblr post worth sending to your mom, it's this one.
Just saying, bodies are a use it or lose it kinda thing.
okay so every time I see this post crop back up in queues and notifications I end up thinking about it. Because I made the post and even I'm still doing the thing where I read the post about maintaining range of motion in my delicate meatsuit and I nod and hmm and think yeah that's a good idea and then dont move from where I'm curled up shrimp style staring at the nightmare rectangle.
So like. Thinking real hard about moving doesn't count as moving. Major bummer. Anyways. Joints.
me: “yeah I dated a guy in high school who came out as gay. it was before i knew i was a boy so needless to say it didn’t work out”
coworker: “damn dude was preordering”
other things this coworker (who is a cis guy) has done/said:
—got confused about why I’d never been a boy scout because he forgot i was trans
—told me he was gonna get top surgery scar tattoos to match me after i get mine
—laughs at all my trans jokes, even if they’re supremely unfunny
—calls me big dog (and him little dog) even though he is about as tall as two of me
— “I can’t believe she would say that transphobic thing to you. In June? Pride month?”
Once I said "My gender is whatever's funniest at the time" and my coworker stops dead in his tracks, turns slowly and says "So are your pronouns honk/honk?" killing me instantly
I was talking to a friend I knew before I transitioned about my new relationship (my first one ever!) and I said "Yeah, I think I only indentified as aro/ace most of my life because I didn't have lesbian as an option" and he looked me dead in the eye and said "Oh? Why not? ...Ohhh"
Then he said "You know, I completely forgot you weren't always this way. Femininity really suits you" and let me tell you I started tearing up
Of course, not ten minutes later I mentioned that I had to relearn how to sing and he said "oh no, what happened?" so he might just be a little slow
Update on that friend: a bunch of people sent me "he's a little confused, but he's got the spirit" gifs in response to that story. I can tell you now with certainty that she definitely has the spirit, and she's not confused anymore
I can’t believe we’re doing a site-wide retrospective on Dr. Roberta Bobby tweets and nobody’s mentioned the all time greatest one:
